


Mark of the Heart ~ Legends of Eirye Book 1

by Eve Annajane (beware_of_fangirling)



Series: Legends of Eirye [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Assassins, Death, F/F, Friendship, Hinted Relationships, Love, M/M, Medieval, Murder, Mystery, kingdom - Freeform, original - Freeform, runaways - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-04-20 17:37:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4796306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beware_of_fangirling/pseuds/Eve%20Annajane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eirye is an age old kingdom full of mystery, mayhem and secrets lurking behind every castle wall. The fate of this land is about to be placed in the hands of five nobles: Tarshee, who struggles with mistakes of the past and letting go of old hatreds; Draco, who finds his greatest adversaries to be his own family and those who can't see beyond his dark walls; Huntyr, the prince and peacekeeper in a land bound for chaos; Annabelle, who searches for the freedom to make her own choices; and Clara, who needs nothing more than a sword in her hand and the rest of Eirye's expectations in the grave.</p><p>These five people are about to begin their greatest struggle. The fate of Eirye is in their hands, for better or for worse. A series of events that could plunge Eirye into the ground has begun and it all starts within them.</p><p>Amidst wars and runaways, secrets and lies, how far will people go for their heart's greatest desires?</p><p>Filled with power struggles, family, friendships and love, Legends of Eirye is a don't miss series!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Introduction to Eirye

**Author's Note:**

> Hello peoples! This is another original work of mine taking place in a setting similar to that of Unbroken (hint, hint). I hope you check it out and end up loving it as much as I do!
> 
> Kudo, comment, bookmark, share!
> 
> Enjoy!

Eirye is a small kingdom on one of the southern peninsulas of Eopia. It is relatively young compared to the rest of the Nine Known Lands, established only 300 years to date. Eirye was founded by five nobles and one Lord who all traveled together in search of uncharted land to settle in and form their own kingdom. They succeeded and Eirye was born, along with the five Great Houses and the Royal House.

 **House Flirat:** Members of House Flirat are taught from a young age that kindness and justice are the most important virtues. While known for their good tempers, Flirats can be fierce when threatened. The Flirat sigil is a golden leaf on a field of deep green. The Flirats rule over Broadleaf on the western seaboard and reside in Everwood, a castle near the north of Broadleaf. Their minor houses include House Dimion, House Cranto and House Frolay.

~Lord Tarshee Flirat~

~Lady Cala Flirat~ Of House Glen

~~Lucas Flirat~~ Boy of 15; Heir to House Flirat

~~Annabelle Flirat~~ Girl of 13; Betrothed to Shawn of House Margravin

~~Enias Flirat~~ Boy of 5

-Seth Cranto- Hand to the Lord; Of House Flirat

-Lynn Weldmar- Caretaker of Children; Of House Glen

-Alistair Green- Master of Books; Of House Margravin

-Robert Frolay- Master of Arms; Of House Flirat

-Gilda Mapey- Master of Health; Of House Opey

 **House Glen:** House Glen is the oldest house and the second most powerful- after only the royal house. They are well connected throughout Eirye and value family above all else. The Glen sigil is a tan scroll on a grey back. House Glen resides in Ancient Stone, a castle in the Old Lands. Their minor houses include House Weldmar, House Belmar and House Galda.

~Lord Alan Glen~

~{Lady Fiona Glen}~ Of House Opey; Killed during the Battle of the Beyond

~~Cala Flirat~ Woman of 21; Lady of House Flirat

~~Demitri Glen~ Man of 20; Heir to House Glen

~~Johannesse Glen~ Boy of 17; Hand to Lord Samuel of House Opey

~~Samuel Glen~ Boy of 15; Betrothed to Gabriele of House Opey

~~Cierra Glen~ Girl of 14

-Nicholai Weldmar- Hand to the Lord; Of House Glen

-Alyssia Cranto- Caretaker of Children; Of House Flirat

-Catrina Setp- Master of Books; Of House Opey

-Ronald Belmar- Master of Arms; Of House Glen

-Joshua Galda- Master of Health; Of House Glen

 **House Margravin:** Those in House Margravin are raised on bravery and nobility. They are known to have hot tempers and thick heads, but try to do what is right above all else. The Margravin sigil is a grey storm cloud on a field of stark white and they rule over Thunder Hills from their castle in Storm's Gathering. The minor houses of House Margravin include House Green and House Charr.

~Lord Cassiel Margravin~

~Lady Alybi Margravin~ Of House Opey

~~Shawn Margravin~ Boy of 14; Heir to House Margravin; Betrothed to Annabelle of House Flirat

~~{Victoria Margravin}~ Girl of 0; Killed in childbirth

-Wayne Green- Hand to the Lord; Of House Margravin

-Hazelle Frolay- Caretaker of Children; Of House Flirat

-Thaz Setp- Master of Books; Of House Opey

-Raphiel Charr- Master of Arms; Of House Margravin

-Elyn Cras- Master of Health; Of House Slyth

 **House Opey:** House Opey is the smallest house and the wisest. They always focus on the facts and are good consultants, but can be doubtful and over-analytic at times. The Opeys take for their sigil a silver fish on a light blue background to symbolize their costal home of Saltmar in the Coastlands. Their minor houses include House Setp and House Mapey.

~Lord Samuel Opey~

~{Lady Juliete Opey}~ Of House Flirat; Killed in the Fire Plague

~~Gabriele Opey~ Girl of 15; Betrothed to Samuel of House Glen

-Johannesse Glen- Hand to the Lord; Of House Glen

-Bianca Charr- Caretaker of Children; Of House Margravin

-Nathan Mapey- Master of Books; Of House Opey

-Peyter Devalo- Master of Arms; Of House Slyth

-Callista Dimion- Master of Health; Of House Flirat

 **House Slyth:** House Slyth has a reputation as the harshest and darkest house. They are slow to trust and slow to be trusted but powerful nonetheless. The Slyth sigil is a black dagger on a blood-red background and they live in Black's Sword, ruling over all of Shadowveil in the north. Their minor houses include House Corsso, House Devalo and House Cras.

~Lord Draco Slyth~

~Lady Nemora Slyth~ Of House Slyth

~~ Dominic Slyth~ Boy of 19; Heir to House Slyth

~~Gryphon Slyth~ Boy of 15

~~Clara Slyth~ Girl of 13

-Jacobi Corsso- Hand to the Lord; Of House Slyth

-Emela Devalo- Caretaker of Children; Of House Slyth

-Charles Cras- Master of Books; Of House Slyth

-Michael Devalo- Master of Arms; Of House Slyth

-Alexander Wesson- Master of Health; Of House Slyth

 **The Royal House Dunthraine** : House Dunthraine is the highest of the Great Houses and rules over everyone else. They are well respected and well loved, but harsh when they need to be for the good of Eirye. Their sigil is a golden crown on a deep scarlet back. They have no minor houses attributed specifically to them, but hold power over all of the Great Houses and their liege lords.

~King Samandriel Dunthraine~

~Queen Demora Dunthraine~ Of the Outlands

~~Huntyr Dunthraine~ Boy of 19; Heir to House Dunthraine

~~{Ana Dunthraine}~ Would be a girl of 17; Captured and killed by outlaws

~~{Violet Dunthraine}~ Would be a girl of 15; Captured and killed by outlaws

~~Khol Dunthraine~ Boy of 13

~~Violet Dunthraine~ Girl of 5

-Aldwyn Cranto- Hand to the King; Of House Flirat

-Jeyne Green- Caretaker of Children; Of House Margravin

-Lithian Weldmar- Master of Books; Of House Glen

-Ronsard Devalo- Master of Arms; Of House Slyth

-Corbyn Setp- Master of Health; Of House Opey


	2. Chapter 1 ~ Tarshee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Tarshee Flirat receives an important invitation.

Tarshee Flirat was not a man to be trifled with. Though he had been born in Eirye, his ancestors were of the Outlands and he had inherited their dark skin and muscular build, along with a harshness not typically found among the Flirats. His bloodline had moved steadily up from beggars to nobles. Tarshee's mother had married the Lord and as their eldest and only son, he was heir to the house. When they were both among the many felled by the Fire Plague, Tarshee was left a lord at the age of five. That was twenty years ago and times had not been easy on House Flirat. Bandits and outlaws filtered in endlessly from Raven's Edge, seeking refuge and escape from the relentless law up north in Shadowveil, home to House Slyth. Tarshee hated the Slyths with a passion. Harsh and ruthless, living in the dark north, worse than the seven hells and cold enough to freeze them.

Tarshee was startled out of his brooding by a sharp knock to the door. He pushed away from the window he was leaning on and paced to the center of his solar before answering in a gruff voice. Tarshee relaxed and dropped some of his stoic demeanor when the pudgy face of his Hand appeared around the door. He nodded for the man to shut the door and took a seat behind his large oak desk. "What is it Seth?"

Seth Cranto was a short man and fat, by no means a fighter. Fortunately, he made for an excellent Hand to the Lord, trust-worthy and well-advising. Seth had been Tarshee's hand since he had taken the Lordship and was his regent before that. There was no one Tarshee trusted more.

"M'lord, a letter has arrived for you. It was brought in just now from the Ever Road"

'The Glens, perhaps,' Tarshee mused to himself offhandedly. "Where is the letter?"

Seth held out a rolled parchment scroll. Tarshee hastily stood and snatched it away when he caught eye of the royal crest, a crown stamped in red wax. "Directly from the crown," Tarshee announced when he saw the small S at the bottom that symbolized the King's own writing inside. "Bring Cala here at once."

Once Seth had scurried out of the room, Tarshee carefully broke the seal and unfurled the letter.

_My Lords and Ladies,_

_As King of Eirye and Lord of House Dunthraine, I call a Gathering of the Lords as to discuss the betrothal of my youngest son, the Prince Khol. The Gathering will be held in ten days' time to allow for travel and will last two nights. All High families are welcome to attend._

_Samandriel Dunthraine_

_King of Eirye_

_Lord of House Dunthraine_

By the time Seth and Lady Cala entered, the letter was on the table and Tarshee was back to sitting in his chair, slumped heavily in thought. He simply raised his eyes to them in acknowledgement and waved vaguely at the scroll. Cala was the first to pick it up and Tarshee watched her as she read. I really have chosen a beautiful wife, he thought. And the Lady was, all soft curves and tanned skin, the golden hue accented by her deep green dress .Her dark eyes matched the darker hair piled on top of her head in a graceful yet messy up-do. Tarshee would never understand the complexity that was a woman's hair.

A startled gasp from the Lady brought Tarshee's attention back to the current matter. "A Gathering of the Lords! This hasn't happened since..." Cala trailed off and Tarshee saw the excitement in her eyes dampen for a moment before the flame was relit. "Well, we must go. The children haven't been to the Castle in ages, they'll be so happy."

Tarshee hated to stop his wife's joy, but he had to. "Cala, I do not plan to bring you nor the children. You must stay here to watch over Broadleaf. Seth and I shall go, if only to make our offer and consult the king. Traveling with all three children and the two of us would leave no one to take care of Everwood."

"My father will be there! My brothers and sisters! Let Seth stay here and we can all go. Please Tarshee," she pleaded.

"Cala, I told you, Seth and I are only going to consult the king."

"If by 'consult' you mean stop him from picking the Slyth girl, then damn the Slyths!"

"That's pretty much what I'm trying to do," Tarshee snapped, his patience wearing thin.

Cala folded her arms across her chest. "My father will want to see me, and he will want to know who stopped him and his grand-children from coming. Do you really want to get on his bad side?"

Tarshee hated to admit it even to himself, but she was right. Lord Alan Glen may be old, but he was still a formidable warrior and an intimidating good-father. He sighed and a triumphant grin spread across Cala's face. That particular sigh always meant Tarshee had seen reason and conceded. "Fine, we will all go. Seth, you will be in charge until we get back. We leave tomorrow morning."

Cala's smile grew even more and she nodded eagerly. "Thank you, Tarshee. We can tell the children at dinner." With that, she briskly exited the room, leaving Tarshee with a dismayed Seth.

"My lord, if I may, do you think it is wise to interfere with the prince's betrothal id the king is to choose the Slyth girl? All I am saying is that you and Lord Slyth have been at odds since you were pronounced Lord. Is it worth it to cause further conflict?"

"Seth, I will die before I let any Slyth take the throne."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

That night at dinner, Tarshee was seated at the head of the table like always, with Cala on the other end. Lucas and Enias were to his right with Annabelle across from them. While the two boy's shared Tarshee and Cala's dark features, Annabelle stuck out from the rest with her blonde curls, bright blue eyes and ivory skin. She was the sole inheritance of these traits from her maternal grandmother, the late Lady Fiona Glen, lost thirteen years ago to the Battle of the Beyond.

The family ate in silence for a while, but as their plates were being cleared, Tarshee made the announcement. "Children, we have something to tell you. I received a letter from the king today." Tarshee paused to allow for the excited trio of gasps. "He has called a Gathering of Lords in ten days' time. We are all going."

Annabelle bounced slightly in her chair, her smile lighting up the room more than any torch could. Enias was smiling just because of her excitement, even though he had never been to the castle. The last time there had been a Gathering was five years ago and he was still in Cala's womb. Lucas, always calm and refined, only smiled softly, but the gleam in his eyes gave away his joy too.

"Why did King Samandriel call the Gathering, father?" Lucas was already being groomed as the next Lord Flirat, so he was always asking the important questions.

"He wants to discuss the betrothal of Prince Khol," Tarshee answered.

Annabelle's smile dimmed a bit and Tarshee hated to see the light fade. She had been betrothed to Shawn Margravin almost a year ago, but still held a lingering hope to be a princess. This Gathering would dash those dreams completely.

"How will the future bride be picked?" Lucas asked quickly to stop focus from going to Annabelle's dismay. She would not want to be called out on it.

"I'm glad you asked, Lucas. A handful of nobles from the smaller houses and possibly some from the Great Houses will be picked by each Great Lord. They will be offered at the Gathering and the king will chose among them."

"Who do you plan to offer, father?"

"In anticipation for such an event, Lord Dimion has given me consent to offer his eldest, Jeyne. Do you remember her from previous events?"

"Yes, I remember. She would make a good bride." Tarshee thought he saw a faint pang of longing in his son's eyes, but Annabelle distracted him quickly enough.

"Will Clara Slyth be offered?"

Tarshee tried very, very hard not to scowl. "It is unlikely she would not be offered."

Apparently, he didn't do a superb job of hiding his distain. Annabelle asked, "Why do you hate the Slyths so much?"

Tarshee looked at her silently for a moment and then flickered his gaze at the others. Cala gave him a warning look, but Tarshee had made up his mind. It was time for his children to start learning who their enemies were. "They are ruthless. Thousands of knights, our knights, were slaughtered by their Prowlers during the Battle of the Beyond. Outlaws are constantly filtering in to the other lands, especially ours, and yet they do nothing to stop it. Lord Draco has always been so secretive about his business that it makes me wonder what is going on inside the walls of Black's Sword."

"You think they're plotting something?" Lucas gasped. Cala sighed and shot Tarshee a harsh glare. She always hated when he talked bad about the Slyths, which was another reason he loathed them all together.

"I only mean that I have doubts about their loyalty."

"To the throne?"

"To Eirye."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cala confronted Tarshee later that evening as they packed for the journey. "You should not say those things so publicly. If the other houses find out about your doubts, trouble is inevitable. And the children! If one of them were to slip and say something, it will only be worse. If Lucas is to be the next Lord Flirat, he must have faith in the other houses. Would it trouble you so much to keep your private opinions private?"

"I am sorry, Cala, but I will not filter the truth for the sake of class. I don't trust the Slyths, it is that simple. As for Lucas, it would do him good to guard himself wisely when he is Lord."

Cala sighed. "Tarshee, the Slyths are going to be at the Gathering. I know that you and Lord Draco have never gotten on well, but I ask you one thing. Behave."

"Only if he does."


	3. Chapter 2 ~ Draco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco Slyth receives an invitation to the Gathering of Lords, much to the dismay of his daughter Clara

The day was gloomy, as it always seemed to be in Shadowveil as of late. Dark clouds obscured the sun, casting a hazy grey murk upon the lands. A storm could almost be seen brewing as day got colder, though it was only mid-day. Lord Draco Slyth looked down on all of this from the tower window in Black's Sword, the wind snapping at his dark black cloak. He gazed over the tall stone walls that fortified his castle with stormy grey eyes. The land of Shadowveil spread in each direction, dense black forest dotted with small villages here and there, before ending at the sea on both sides. If Draco looked directly north, he could almost make out the inky line that was the Barrier, a great wall separating Eirye from all of the other known kingdoms.

The only other large cities in Shadowveil were Sharp Watch to the northeast, where the knights of House Slyth were trained, and Raven's Edge to the west, a chaotic town filled with bandits, rapists and murderers. Draco had tried desperately to restore order in Raven's Edge after the Battle of the Beyond left it in turmoil, but hardly any guards could be spared from the Barrier, as House Slyth was Eirye's first line of defense against the outside world. Since the war, everyone had been especially cautious, most of all Draco. His house and kingdom would not stand through another battle.

And there Black's Sword stood in the center of it all. Tall black walls soared so high around the castle that the only places they could be seen past were the Three Crows, the highest towers in Shadowveil. It was the center one that Draco stood looking down from right then.

He turned sharply and started back down the spiraling stone steps. Brooding would help no one, and Draco was a busy man. His duties awaited him. As if brought on by Draco's thoughts, his Hand, Jacobi Corsso, met him by where the staircase merged into the castle.

"My lord, Master Cras has received a raven from the king."

Draco kept walking as Jacobi spoke, his chilly voice echoing off the dark walls. The windowless halls of Black's Sword always seemed shadows and the flickering torches only served to cast a scant light. Jacobi scurried to keep up with Draco's long strides, his gangly legs not providing as much speed as they would seem.

"And what did the raven carry?" Draco had no doubts that Jacobi had already read whatever letter was brought. He had little regard for privacy or keeping his nose out of noble affairs. Draco kept him around as a Hand nonetheless; not even a fool would betray a Slyth.

"His Grace King Samandriel Dunthraine has called a Gathering of Lords in ten days' time. All the High Families are invited to attend."

"What is this Gathering for?" Draco had a fair idea, but he wanted to be certain.

"His Grace wished to arrange his son's marriage." Jacobi smiled wickedly. "Your daughter has a very good chance of being his bride."

Draco hummed in acknowledgement. He had been made all too aware of his only daughter's opinion on marriage- hers specifically- many times. To clarify, that opinion was a resounding, resolute 'no'. The young noble had no dreams of marrying a prince, or even a High Lord. She had made that clear enough by brutally beating a sparring partner the last time he had been stupid enough to tease her about it.

Draco turned down the hall that would lead to his solar. "Begin preparations for our departure. Send for Lady Nemora and the children, tell them to come to my solar. If you cannot find my dear lady wife, follow the stench of despise and the trail of petrified servants."

"I did feel a sense of terror about the castle this morning."

"Yes, she is in one of her good moods," Draco drawled. "Oh, and Jacobi? You will be in charge while we are gone. If I return to find anything has gone awry, you will find yourself in the Maze within a fortnight."

The blood drained from the Hand's face before he scurried quickly from the room. It was a heavy threat. The Maze was what the people of Eirye had taken to calling The Bloodied Labyrinth. This was a complex labyrinth that spanned all across the underground of Black's Sword from wall to wall. If a person was found guilty of heavy treason to Eirye, they would be taken from their chambers while they slept and deposited in the Maze. A pack of captured and angry wolves were then set on them after eating nothing for 12 days. No person had ever come out of the Maze.

Just as Draco had settled in one of the velvet armchairs before his fire, the doors swung open and Lady Nemora strode in. Her black gown had been slit up to the knee, revealing blood red linings. A high-necked collar framed her sharply beautiful face and her long braid was draped over one shoulder. She did not say anything to Draco when she entered, not even as she poured a glass of wine and settled in to wait. There was no love lost between the Lord and his wife, who cared for nothing other than power, jewels, and- occasionally- her three children.

Seconds later, Draco's eldest son Dominic came in to break the cold tension of the room. He was heir to the house at ten-and-nine, a picture of Draco, just as tall and about as built. His dark hair was cropped close to his head, aging his face even more than time and trial had. His brother Gryphon filed in next, another image of Draco but shorter and of a leaner build. His near-black eyes were filled with knowledge and ideas. Gryphon was undeniably the smartest of the Slyths, preferring knowledge to combat. Only a few so far have been stupid enough to think this meant he could not fight, and did not make the same mistake again.

Last of all was Draco's only daughter, Clara. The ten-and-three girl had short brown hair hanging to her shoulder blades and sticking out in odd places. She was attractive, with a pretty and young face, but always caked with mud and scowling more often than not. With an excessive need to prove herself through danger and a fierce defiance of authority, Clara was far from a princess.

But that seemed to be what fated her.

Draco relayed the message to his family, watching as horror spread across Clara's face. She looked like she had been told she would die, instead of just marry someone. Of course, only one of those fates was tolerable to Clara. Dominic and Gryphon let out twin sighs of suffrage and waited for the storm to come.

"Are you out of your sodding minds?!"

"Clara," Draco warned darkly. "Watch how you speak to me."

"Sorry, I forgot to say no disrespect intended. No disrespect intended, but are you out of your sodding minds?! I know where you're going with this, and the answer is no! I refuse to marry the prince!"

"It's not your decision Clara, it's the king's"

"Like hell it is! This is my life we're talking about! I am not going to be a princess. I'm going to be a knight."

Lady Nemora laughed condescendingly. "You can't be a knight. No woman can. You are a noble young lady and will marry someone of your standards. If you have sons, they could be knights."

"Me squeezing a wailing worm out of my lady parts is a topic for a much, much later time."

"I second that," Dominic murmured, his face scrunched up in disgust.

Draco sighed. "I don't see why you are so against this."

Bluntly, Clara declared, "Well, for one, Prince Khol is a cunt."

Draco and Lady Nemora shouted in unison, "Language!" while Gryphon and Dominic elbowed her in each side.

Clara continued, "Also, being a princess is boring. You don't get to do anything! I want excitement. They might not even let me practice my combat!"

"Gods be good they won't," Nemora huffed.

"Clara, that is enough," Draco demanded to stop her from saying anything else. "We leave tomorrow. Pack or I'll have Emela pack for you. End of discussion."

Clara glared at him through narrowed eyes. "I won't let you just ship me off like traded goods. Just try."

She stormed out of the room, Dominic right behind her. Gryphon spared his parents a polite but annoyed farewell and followed them. Nemora left as silently as she had come in.

Into the empty room, Draco decided, "That went better than expected."

**Author's Note:**

> No, that was not a chapter, just an character information index incase you get confused. I know I did! Now, for the real stuff...


End file.
